Epochs
by darlingmess
Summary: Variations on love.


Standard Disclaimers Apply

Epochs

Sitting alone in the Titans East Tower, Speedy wonders when he came to rely so much on those around him. How he suddenly misses them when they're not in the room, or whenever he's alone he doesn't quite feel easy as he used to; when he was just Speedy, BAMF and Star City teen sensation. But all things considered he sort of (secretly) really likes being part of something bigger than him. This feeling of dependence was at one point scary and heart clenching, but now it (girlish as it sounds) makes him feel better and makes the once oppressive darkness less foreboding.

For what it's worth this time feels like nothing could be any better, like life after all the teen angst and bitterness is better. He flings his feet up, onto the round coffee table, cup of coffee shaking and coffee itself, sloshing out. It makes a small puddle around the white cup. The colours contrast greatly, this rich, deep brown against a gleaming, ceramic white. Speedy just cocks his head and raises a sardonic eyebrow. His eyes flicker upwards when Aqualad clicks his tongue head shaking in disapproval. Bastard. He doesn't even look up properly, just tips his head when he feels Speedy's intense and just a tiny bit angry bare green eyes on him. Drilling holes.

"Problem there Roy?" He asks, and Speedy can't help but sort of smile. It's a minute smile, barely there. But his breath does hitch slightly, when Aqualad calls him by his given name, he furrows his brow before realising that the bastard insists on calling him that when his mask is off.

"Nope, Fish Stick," Speedy -Roy- grins when Aqualad bristles. "No problem at all."

But that's not quite true. There is a problem, Roy is close to everyone now (in his own affectionately self absorbed way), he's a big boy, he can bury the hatchet and all that. Thing is, he's not as anymore closer to Aqualad -Garth- (but only in his head, and only on a good day) than he was the day he joined this mismatched and explosive brood. Sure he and Garth get on, pretty well if that's counting -sparse- platitudes and ignoring each other.

But still he continues to look, all smug and arrogant. When Garth does look up, his eyes are all open and sweet, if only for a moment, then they're shuttered and flighty. WTF. What the fuck indeed.

_*Philia_

The blue waves lash against the coast. And the sky is a nice purple-pink-blue, the sun still sort of peaks over the horizon. From the training room window it looks nice and safe.Speedy looks on, his masked eyes narrowed in well concealed admiration. This really is his favourite time of day. He feels a small hand at his waist and stiffens, the hand loosens in pressure and another joins it. They squeeze softly and tug at his sides. He grits his teeth and looks over his shoulder, confused that no one is actually there. The hands tug again and he looks down. Right. Mas and Menos are stood either side of him, mumbling rapidly in Spanish. No wonder he didn't hear them; he learnt to block them out years ago.

He tunes in now, somewhat alert, he recognises some words and phrases. He thinks he should get round to learning Spanish. He had been meaning to do so, really and honestly. He just had lots of other more _fun _things to do. Like; sex, dates and women not necessarily in that order and not necessarily with only one person at a time. But surely no one really expected more of him; at twenty verging twenty-one he has needs, very important and possibly fatal needs. The twins look up at him, at sixteen they're not so little anymore, and Speedy can't help but marvel at that. But still they are so fucking tiny. He cracks a grin, one for the LOLs.

Then they look at him questioningly, and he shrugs one shoulder, nodding slightly, the twins sigh, and then laughing they talk to each other. Mas pinches him lightly, Menos laughs and points at him. Rubbing his side Speedy glares good-naturedly, little shits. When he tells them they laugh harder, join hands and run off when he makes to grab them. _Fast_ little shits.

Still rubbing his side, more for show than any residue pain, Speedy continues to look out at the setting sun. Impulsively he tugs his mask off and holds it slack in his hands. Using the heel of his palm Speedy -Roy- rubs at his eyes, blinking a few times as the world begins to slowly focus. Walking over to the window he rests his head against it and sighs, his breath condensing on the glass. He draws a smiley face in it. He backs up a bit; walking backwards he stretches his arms above his head stopping for a moment, groaning slightly when his shoulders crack and pop. Dropping his arms he hangs his head, his hair still this oddly attractive ginger colour hanging softly into his eyes.

He doesn't notice the figure in the doorway. He jumps when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. He grits his teeth. His jaw relaxes when the hand rubs once, twice before almost reluctantly drops. The warmth weight at his side leaves, making him strangely cold and empty. Aqualad coughs and looks determinedly out of the window, at the now dark sky, the sun has fully set now and the sky is this mystical serene blue, with endless stars. Roy has never fancied himself as poetic, but sometimes he thinks it'd be a good look on him.

"You, um, did really well in training," Aqualad (but now he seems more like a Garth), smiles briefly before adding, "Roy."

Roy looks at him, head cocked and a tiny grin lifting at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, you didn't do so bad yourself."

"Garth." He says quickly black eyes still staring out of the window with this steely determination, which secretly makes Roy proud and the smallest bit jealous. "I have a name, use it."

With his smirk evident in his voice Roy says, "Of course, Fisk Stick." He yelps at the swift pinch delivered to his side. "Alright. Garth, alright. Lord your bitch." He glares out into the water, and huffs still rubbing his side theatrically.

"Don't be such a baby."

"But you _hurt_ me!" Roy makes his eyes overly large and his bottom lip waver slightly.

Aqualad looks away and scoffs under his breath. Roy watches as he shakes his head, his inky black hair whipping out every which way, controlled though. Roy catches the scent of something clean and bright. Who'd of thought, Fish Stick smells pretty. Such a girl.

"I should call the police or something."

Laughing Garth replies, "Yeah, you do that."

Roy pouts, and bends to sit down. The training room looks larger from the ground, the cream walls look dark in the little light offered from the stars. He sits cross legged, back slouched and elbow resting on his knee. Sighing contentedly Roy drops his head into his palm. Aqualad continues to look down; confused. Rolling his eyes Roy taps the space next to him, when Aqualad continues to stare, he tugs forcefully, somewhat playful.

"Sit your ass down." His voice is soft almost intimate though still maintaining its roughness, Garth smiles sweetly if only for a short moment.

He rests more -characteristically- elegant than Roy, folded neatly. There is a few inches between them, the gap feels frightfully small. Roy swallows and at Garth's inquisitive glance points at the window, the stars seem to go on forever, little sparkling white specks; ethereal.

Garth opens his mouth, lips curling in a gently mocking grin.

"Not a word, not a fucking word."

_*Agape_

Speedy hates the Medical room.

It's clinical and white and reminds him of death, and bleach. Lots and lots of bleach, probably not quite bleach, more of an antiseptic but still, Speedy hates it. But most of all he hates the blood that comes with Hospitals and Medical rooms. And the fact that everything doesn't stay constant especially time. He hates that time never stays the same; it'll speed up, and then slow down at the worst fucking times.

But here he is, rummaging through the cupboard supplies, searching for cotton wool and a roll of gauze. And anti-bloody-septic. With a bitter triumphant smirk Speedy slams the cupboard shut. The resulting bang doesn't really satisfy as much as he'd hoped. He just places his things in a neat, precarious line, and sighs, he drops his head his choppy and soft bangs hanging irritatingly in his eyes. Aqualad keeps telling him he needs a haircut.

The shuddering breath he releases is both loud and involuntary.

"Hey? Are you alright?" Comes this strange and sheepish voice.

Speedy pinches his brow, takes a deep breath and nods. Turning around he walks back to the cot where Aqualad sits, back straight and ankles hooked together. His feet brush the floor as he swings his legs looking uncomfortable under the force of Speedy's gaze. Speedy reaches out a hand gloved fingers skimming the tips of Aqualad's graze. It runs up into his hairline, caking it in his blood. At his hiss Speedy whips his hand back, and feverishly whips his gloves up. He touches it, cooing under his breath, softer now, tentative.

Dragging his hand away, he takes a single step back, taking in Aqualad's battered and bruised face. There are more grazes open and bloody against his jaw, just under the soft jut of his nose, and nearing his eyelid. Speedy looks away.

He fiddles with the antiseptic bottle, twisting the cap, he ignores when Aqualad opens his mouth very gently calling his name. He nudges Aqualad's legs apart, coming to stand between them, he doesn't notice Aqualad's soft intake of breath. With the antiseptic heavy cotton wool Speedy daps and cleans the cut at Aqualad's hairline. He apologises quietly at the hiss of discomfort.

"You need to stay still."

When he's finished Speedy doesn't move, just stands there, chests almost touching, and thighs brushing. He lets his bare hand rest against the underside of Aqualad's jaw. He presses a plaster to the small cut he finds there he sighs, and rests his forehead against Aqualad's, in a uncharacteristic show of comfort. Comfort for who he does not know.

Suddenly he grips Aqualad's upper arm, fingers curling harshly with force enough to make Speedy himself wince. Smooth glove covered palms come to rest, uneasily, against his hand. They just rest there rubbing in calming circles.

"Roy..."

Just as the name is said, it hangs in the air heavy and oppressive. Speedy shakes his head, strands tickling the tips of Aqualad's cheek. Speedy realises what a picture he probably makes looking melancholy in the soft twinkling starlight from the full length window, and Speedy hates just how inconceivably vulnerable he is right now. And right now, he really fucking hates Garth, Aqualad.

His rage his misguided, volatile but just rage just bubbles forth, springing from his lips like vomit. "Listen here, you stupid, wet bastard. Don't you ever fucking dare. Don't you ever take a hit for me. Don't you ever. I'm a big boy and can take my own punches. So don't you ever think I'll need to gallivanting to my rescue, I don't fucking need you to do that. I can take care of myself." Speedy sounds dreadfully composed throughout all of this, his only tell is how his grip eventually weakens. He closes his eyes. He breathes harshly and through his teeth.

"What makes you think I need you anyway?" Quiet, Speedy's voice still retains this angry brittle quality.

Aqualad just sits there, lips pressed together tightly. He listens nodding at some points, eyes trained on the floor. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. But you know what. I'd do it again, for you, for anyone of us." With this he lifts his hand up to gently peel away Speedy's mask, encouraged when Speedy lets him. Speedy feels naked now, like his outburst has laid everything bare. That it makes him soft and open. He jumps a bit when Garth's cold fingers ghost the shell of his ear.

Huffing and leaning in closer Roy says, "I know you would. I'd probably do the same you know. For any of you."

"Any of us." Garth corrects, quietly. He smiles secretly at Roy's sullen agreement.

Slowly Roy pulls away, missing Garth's quick frown. Impulsively he pulls Garth's chin down, and presses a soft and fleeting kiss to his forehead.

...

It is early morning and Speedy is watching the water. He's stood by the stove, apron on and spatula in hand. He breathes in deeply the smell of bacon heavy and dominant in the air. He feels unusually light and optimistic. He hums to himself quietly.

He glances up as the doors slide open. Bumble Bee walks in, her buns undone and in her pyjamas. Roy thinks she looks pretty and soft in the sun's early light; it paints sound amber and gold and sweet contrast to her dark, ebony skin. She stops to yawn, her hand coming to rest against her mouth and Roy smirks when she sniffs delicately at the air.

She walks over and stops behind him. She wraps her arms about his waist giving him a soft squeeze, she moves to his left leaning her head on his shoulder. He greets her quietly smiling to himself when her dainty wings flutter and brush his side.

"You're cooking." She remarks drowsily, she narrows her eyes, her tone suspicious. "What did you do?"

Roy shakes his head, smirk dancing at the corners of his lips. When he speaks he does so in a tone of faux exasperation, "God, Kar. Didn't do a fucking thing." He turns the bacon over. "How much do you want?"

"Four."

"Tubby." He winces when she pinches him, hard. Like really, really _hard_.

"STFU. Asshole."

Politely he asks her to get him some plates. Blinking his now overly large green eyes, he smiles sweetly. When the door opens again they both glance up offering greetings to Garth and the twins when they enter.

...

_*Eros_

When they get home from battle it's dark. The sky is painted this heavy deep blue, and few stars are out. At Menos' request Speedy points out the consolations, knowing enough Spanish to try and explain it properly. It's not like the twins don't understand English, Speedy's just trying to be nice. And Menos seems to appreciate it, by the brief and menu hug he delivers to Speedy's side. They trundle up the stairs, barely speaking. Slowly, he notes that it's started to rain and he hears the rumble of far away thunder. He doesn't notice Aqualad wince.

Speedy decides against just flopping into bed, costume, boots and mask be damned. So now he just stands at the foot of his bed staring at the duvet, toeing off his boots he lift his foot to run it along the platform frame, sighing he gently kicks his boots under it. He's just pulling of his shirt when the door knocks. The door slides open suddenly and Speedy stumbles. With his shirt half off, he has his arms sticking out in the air and his stomach and chest is showing. Quickly he pulls it off, biting down on his tongue in the process.

Panting harshly, mostly from embarrassment, the rest from alert panic Speedy says roughly; "What?" Noting it's just Aqualad he calms down. Sticking his tongue out he inspects it.

"Um, hi."

Looking up, Speedy glances at Aqualad, noting that he's already in his pyjamas. A white t-shirt and long well worn jogging bottoms. With his tongue held loosely in between his thumb and forefinger he smiles, "Hi." Frowning briefly he asks why Aqualad is here. Dropping his tongue he stands arms crossed over his bare chest, waiting for an answer.

Don't, don't laugh. Okay?" Aqualad sounds nervous and he can't seem to stand still. This strange the normally composed and chilled boy is acting awfully out of character.

"What?"

Wringing his hands and looking over Speedy's shoulder to the storm raging outside Aqualad asks, "CanIstayinheretonight?" It's all in a rush and Speedy has to ask for it a second time. Aqualad glares, Speedy wilts a little and smiles all sheepish and honest.

"Why?"

"Can you please stop answering in monosyllables?" At Speedy's barking laugh Aqualad glares again and continues, "I don't like storms."

"Well, this is new. But sure. I'll just get changed first 'kay?" Comes Speedy's reply, with that he tugs on his trousers, Aqualad blushes and turns away.

"Such a prude." But now Speedy feels on fire, palms clammy and heart hammering, he wishes he wasn't dressed only in his boxers. He walks to his chest of drawers, pulling out a logoed black shirt, he pulls it on. Not feeling as naked anymore.

He goes to his window; he flips open the control panel about to black out the full length window, only stopping when Aqualad tells him it's alright. Nodding he turns around. He smiles seeing Aqualad still standing, posture perfect; back straight and hands either side. He runs a hand over his face, and through his hair (he still hasn't gotten that haircut) he drags it back down, pulling off his mask in the process. He smirks quickly at Aqualad -Garth- slipping under the covers. He rolls onto his side, patting the space beside him, wary Garth joins him. A foot away.

Rolling his eyes, still visible and green in the near darkness, Roy tugs on Garth's arm until he's next to him. Lightning flashes and thunder claps. Garth shudders and pushes Speedy on his back, then burrows into Roy's side. He thumps Roy's chest when he hears his breathy chuckle.

"Shut up." He clenches his eyes shut. When large and calloused hands run through his hair Garth gasps, breathe puffing against Roy's shirt. The hands stop for a moment before continuing, not as sure but still soft and soothing.

He's sure he's out of his fucking mind. And, question, what the fuck is he doing? He's running his fingers through Garth's soft, shiny really nice smelling hair. It's like he's a girl or something. He almost stops when Garth moves, throwing his legs through Roy's and resting his head on Roy's chest. Funny, because this doesn't feel girlish or strange. Just right and intimate. Suddenly Roy really likes this, whatever they are. Impulsively he lifts Garth's chin up, and presses his lips to his, firm and heady. No pretence or subtext, just this wonderful, sudden understanding. This sudden want that makes him -or Garth he can't quite recall the details- surge forward, _closer_ and kiss harder and more fervently with this suppressed and hidden passion that when they part it has his panting.

He sees Garth's blush in the dark. When Garth returns his head to Roy's chest he rests his hand there too, long, pale fingers splayed out drawing patterns. Oddly enough this seems natural and pure. Roy smiles and continues to run his fingers through Garth's hair.

"Never have thought you for a sap, Roy." He sounds unsure and brittle, like the slightest rebuff from Roy could break him. It's a stark contrast from his playful -flirty- fingers.

"Well you thought wrong, Fish Stick."

When Garth pinches him in the side, Roy corrects himself somewhat reluctantly; "Garth."

Closing his eyes, he can hear the rumbling thunder, he distractedly wonders why Garth doesn't like storms and why isn't he flinching. But the slight tensing answers his question, Garth heard it. It makes him proud and somewhat selfish that Garth came to him for comfort. Not Karen.

Thinking, slowly like his mind is filled with treacle, Roy remembers the few weeks before now, when they only said a few words to each other. He's trying to find some hidden message in it, but he can't. Just conversation after conversation about nothing in particular or deep, but he doesn't mind, because Garth has slipped his hand under Roy's shirt cool palm flush against his hot stomach. And honestly it doesn't matter, not when he has the now. And then now is fucking fantastic.

And, apparently rather erotic. (Good times.)

END

-Author's Note-

Hallo thar!

So this has sort of been haunting me, since last year. And now, (yay for me) I've written it. I don't know if I should sort of explain myself with this. (Oh btw, feel free to ignore me.) But I sort of had this definitive idea way back when and never got round to writing it. But, when I did write it was shit. Like so completely crap, you wouldn't even wipe your arse with it. I sent that version to .Faith-o-saurus., she was aces and gave me some stellar advice, which I took on board but in the long run have now ignored. (Cheers duckie.) But hopefully this isn't like, y'know terrible.

Because I think this pairing is amazing and so underrated. For um... research I watched "For Real" and I was like, "Why in fuck's name, did I watch this, this is several varieties of shit." But then I got into it and was like "Yay, I remember, it's bloody awesome _that's_ why." (I do apologise for quoting myself *hangs head in shame*.) And lol for the amount of acronyms and text speak I put in this. Normally hate using those, but really couldn't help myself.

And in case anyone's wondering, Philia, Agape and Eros are the basic Greek forms of love. I think that's a rather pretty sentiment, in this form pigeon holed almost, put in a wider sense very nice and sweet.

But yeah. I... I, um... thank you for reading. And since we're talking about it. Would like, anyone mind dropping a review. Because I'd really like to know what people thought, because I love pairing so much and want to possibly write more for them, but I'd like to know what sort of reception this got, before I try anything else. So, review, pretty please?

And, dreamalittlebigger, I know, I'm a massive dollop of poo. I will get my arse into high gear, very soon. But, but I'm l_a_zy! Really, really lazy. *sighs, then goes to cry in a dark corner*


End file.
